


Talons

by Fanficter123



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman and Robin (Comics), DCU (Comics), Justice League of America (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bottom Jason Todd, Child Abuse, Earth-3, M/M, Murder, just a lot of violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-07
Updated: 2013-12-07
Packaged: 2018-01-03 21:52:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1073481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fanficter123/pseuds/Fanficter123
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Owlman will do anything to get back at the city that took his family from him.  Dick Grayson will do anything Owlman asks.  Jason Todd will do anything to stop them.  This is their story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Talons

**Author's Note:**

> I've been wanting to do an Owlman fic for the longest time and only just got off my lazy ass to actually start it.
> 
> I'm taking creative liberties with headcanons here, which is why this is classified as an AU.

He was told as a boy there was no such thing as magic.  That any semblance of the supernatural was, in fact, the result of the mind not understanding what the eyes saw.  Dick Grayson had never believed that.  The first time he saw his parents fly he knew there was magic.  It was embedded in the way they moved, like something from another world entirely, like something he couldn’t touch.  It was magic.

It was magic when they fell, too.

~

In the beginning he had been a good boy, or at least as good as any child is expected to be.  He went to bed on time (usually), always finished his vegetables (sometimes), and never ever disobeyed his parents (occasionally).  The troop of Haly’s Circus would have all described Dick as the joy of the group, a lighthearted young lad who put his all into his craft, and had a knack for making people smile. 

But people change, given the chance.  He did.

The first time he heard the word Owlman was the night before they entered Gotham City.   Haly’s had never preformed there before, as the rumors about the City of Crime ran rampant all across the country.  All the same the need to pay the bills out-won the troop’s hesitance, and with a pledge of safety from the Mayor himself, Haly’s Circus agreed to perform for the dark and dense city.  That was when Owlman became a very popular subject amongst the more gossip-loving members of the circus; and Dick had always loved a good story.

Some had called the villainous shadow of Gotham a demon.  They said he could change form and would steal the life right from your lips without laying a hand on your body.  Others called him a brute, with strength rivaling Ultraman.  He could rip your heart clean out of your chest like it was nothing.  He killed because it was fun and left a trail of death and mayhem in his wake.  Still others claimed he was neither, just a man gone mad hiding behind a mask and trying to make people suffer just like he had all his life.

Dick was transfixed by the stories.  Owlman was an enigma, something supernatural and unique and exciting in his tedious life of performance to performance.  As the train rolled its way into Gotham City, Dick stared out into the night, watching, praying, for the flicker of a cape that never came.

As the bigtop rose high into the sky, lights were set, and ropes were hung, Dick snuck away from the safety of the meager trailer he shared with his parents  to the edge of the fairgrounds.  Barely nine o’clock and police sirens already blared from three directions, the few people out were keeping their heads down and their collars up as they briskly walked to their destinations.  The danger sent a shiver of excitement down his spine; this was living like he had never known.

That was when he saw it, a shift in the shadows almost naked to the eye.  A quick figure slipping between the flaps of the big top and leaving not even a ground of dirt disturbed in its wake.  Owlman. 

Pure terror clutched at Dick’s organs, the most wondrous terror he had ever experienced.  So, like the sensible boy he was, he followed the silent figure from a distance, doing his upmost to stay as quiet as the villainous man.  He found Owlman again in the center ring, high above the ground on the trapeze stand that the Flying Graysons used, a knife shimmering in his hand as he carefully, surgically, cut the rope.

The swings that Haly’s used were strong, Dick knew.  Even sabotaged they would probably hold the weight of one man without incident.  But as soon as a second joined in the act-

Owlman meant to kill his parents.

Horrified and intrigued, the boy couldn’t help the way his body instinctively led him backwards to the exit.  He should tell his parents, Haly, _someone_.  He should tell before it was too late, and yet…

Owlman leapt from the great height without even a thought, even though the fall could, should, kill him; just as it was meant to kill John and Mary Grayson.  At the last moment he spread his arms wide, revealing wing-like fabric that slowed his fall and allowed him to land gracefully in a puff of dust.  Dick was transfixed, a soft whine escaped his open mouth like a breath of air; and when Owlman turned to look directly at him he couldn’t even find the will to run.

Owlman approached him slowly and Dick could have sworn he _felt_ eyes narrow on him behind that faceless mask.  He swallowed hard, waiting for the moment of his demise to come and yet still unable to protect himself.  The whole situation was so ridiculous that it brought a smile to his lips, a wide, toothy, mad grin; and Owlman’s head cocked just a centimeter to the left.

“You’re the Grayson boy,” he said, and Dick could have died right then and there from that voice, the deep rumble chilled his bones and heated his cheeks at the same time.  He couldn’t find the words so he just nodded quickly.  “I don’t usually kill kids,” the Owl continued, pulling a long and slender knife from his belt, “But I suppose there’s always exceptions.”

“I won’t tell,” Dick blurted out before he knew what he was saying.  Owlman paused.  “I won’t,” he continued, “I won’t tell anyone.”

“You won’t save your parents?” inquired the Owl, Dick shook his head.  “I highly doubt that.”

“I promise.  They can die.”  The words he was saying didn’t seem to come from him.  They came from something else, a wrinkle in space that was never there before. Dick didn’t want his parents to die.  He wanted them to live. He wanted to please Owlman.

Convincing or not, at the very least his words seemed to have caught the Owlman off guard.  Though he still held the knife with intent to kill, he made no move for Dick.  “Why?” He asked.

Why?  Dick didn’t know why.  His nails dug crescents into the insides of his palms, and he looked Owlman straight in the visor and said, “Because it’s what you want.”  He could have sworn he felt Owlman smile.

“Interesting.  And what do _you_ want?”

Dick didn’t even flinch, “You.”

The seconds stretched like minutes, and then the knife was back in its sheathe as quickly as it had left.  “Very well then.  Let’s test your resolve, boy.”  The next time Dick blinked, he was gone. 

~

Dick stayed true to his word and said nothing about the sabotaged rope.  Haly was on edge the next day regardless, rumor was that he had refused to pay off the Crime Syndicate’s demand for a “protection fee”. Still, no one suspected the gravity of the situation, no one except Dick.  He watched his parents suit up, his mother kissed him on the head and told him to finish his homework and to be in bed by closing.  He gave her all the usual promises and smiles, and she didn’t suspect a thing.  Neither did John Grayson, who gave his only son a pat on the back and promised him his own spotlight in the circus next year.  Dick just smiled and said that he was looking forward to it.

Saying goodbye was a lot easier than he had thought it would be.  It was like any other day, like they were leaving for the show and would be back in time to tuck him in.  Only this time they’d never be back.  Dick stayed in the trailer for a little while.  He thought about packing his things, but life on the road had left him little to cherish as far as personal possessions went.  Besides, he didn’t even know that Owlman would actually take him.  He was just some kid, after all.  In the end he just took a folded up photograph of him and his parents from a few years back, tucked into his jacket pocket, and headed to the show.

No one tried to stop him when he entered the tent.  It wasn’t the first time he’d snuck in to watch his parents perform.  He found a nice spot at the edge of the bleachers, just far enough out of the ring that he wouldn’t attract notice, but close enough that he felt as if the towering trapeze ropes were right above his head.  John and Mary already stood at the top, spotlight on them and waving to the crowd with big smiles.  They were always the stars of the show.  Once Haly had made his introductions, all eyes turned to the sky.  John went first, leaping out and grasping the bar with both hands.  He flew in an arch high above the ground and when he let go of the bar the audience gasped and then cheered as his hands made contact with the second swing.  Even Mary clapped.

Doing a twist mid-air, John turned back around on the swing and rode it back towards Mary, he flipped at the last moment and caught the first swing bar with his legs, holding on by the crook of his knees.  As the swing approached the stand, he held out his hands to Mary.  She jumped and he caught her.  They started to swing back.  For a brief moment everything was normal.  The ropes sustained the combined weight of the two acrobats.

Then it snapped.

People screamed.

They Flying Graysons fell.

It was _magic_.

The thump when they hit the ground was louder and blunter than Dick expected.  He had expected snapping bones, flesh and body crumpling wetly.  There was none of that.  There wasn’t even any blood, not at first.  That came seconds later, pooling out slowly like syrup on pancakes.  Dick just stared at it.  People were running, screaming, crying.  Someone grabbed Dick by the shoulders and tried to pull him away.  A moment later they were on the ground with their throat slashed wide open, and Owlman stood in their place.

He looked down at Dick, but kept his chin up, “You kept your word.  I’d be more impressed if I thought you were sane.”

“I can do it again,” promised the boy.

He heard Owlman snort, “I only needed to kill your parents once.”

Dick felt his resolve start to crack, fear of being rejected taking over, “I can be useful.”

“How is a child supposed to be useful to me? Why would I want you?”

The wrinkle in space opened up again.  Dick had never hurt anyone, not directly, but he knew instantly that he’d do so for Owlman if he was asked, without even blinking.  “Because,” he licked his dry lips, hoping he didn’t look half as scared as he felt, “I’ll do anything you ask.”

He could have sworn he felt Owlman’s smile again.

“Very well, boy.  Let’s see how sharp those talons are.”


End file.
